


Terminus Ad Quem

by faithinthepoor



Category: Wicked RPF
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-13
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-29 03:51:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,521
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/682437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithinthepoor/pseuds/faithinthepoor
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set following Kristin Chenoweth’s last performance</p>
            </blockquote>





	Terminus Ad Quem

Title – Terminus Ad Quem  
Fandom – RPF (and oh my fucking god does that disturb me)  
Pairing – Chenzel  
AN – Set following Kristin Chenoweth’s last performance. It should be noted that I have deliberately avoided reading Chenzel fic because I knew at some point I was going to write this and I wanted to develop my own versions of Kristin and Idina in my head – the characterisation of them in this fic may not coincide with how they are normally written but it conforms with the constructs that I have created in my tiny little mind – and while the characters may be based on Kristin and Idina, they really are just characters, I mean I have seen them perform and I have seen them in interviews but those things aren’t actually equivalent with knowing how they would actually act and respond in real life situations.

I still remain uncomfortable about the whole notion of writing RPF and I mean no disrespect to either of the woman involved. Usual level of appalling proof reading skills stands.

 

Terminus Ad Quem

The door to her dressing room opens but she doesn’t bother to respond, doesn’t need to, she knows who has entered. She keeps her back to the door until it is clear that her guest is not going to approach unless she makes a move of her own. She turns to find Idina leaning against the door and despite the tears and emotional declarations that flowed on stage there is not a trace of sadness evident on her face, the only readable expression is one of satisfaction, “You’re still in costume.”

The statement is redundant, they both knew that she would be, they both knew that tonight, of all nights, she would be waiting for Idina but she tries to make her response nonchalant, “I guess it is going to be hard to take this dress off, when I do this will all really be over.” She wishes the double meaning in her words was more heavily veiled but if Idina notices she makes no attempt to show it. 

The brunette propels herself off the door, leaving it unlocked as she crosses the room. Failing to lock the door is intentional but it’s not so much about titillation or risk as it is about the fact that they both know that they will not be interrupted. She doesn’t doubt that the cast and crew are aware that the two of them spend an excessive amount of time alone in her dressing room and that they all probably have opinions as to what the two of them do behind the closed door. She imagines that the situation polarises their co-workers, she wouldn’t normally think of herself as the subject of gossip but she believes that there would be a camp advocating that they must be having an affair and using Idina’s openness and the rumours regarding her open marriage to back their claims whilst those with the opposing view cite her own strong Christian beliefs as evidence that there is nothing untoward going on. Sometimes she thinks that maybe if she were on the outside, her relationship with Idina would be easier to understand, as it is she has spent years trying to define it and she still has absolutely no idea what they are doing.

She can’t even state with certainty that she knows when things started, the best that she can do is to acknowledge that she knows the moment when things changed. It is fitting that their relationship will end in a dressing room given that that is where it began. Not in this dressing room but in a much smaller one in San Francisco. Idina had come to collect Kristin for the after party that followed opening night only to find her in full costume, standing in the middle of the room, staring into space.

“What are you doing? Everybody’s waiting for you, for us.” She wasn’t able to respond to the question and Idina moved closer, seeming concerned, “Kristin are you okay?”

“I’m fine, I’m just a little overwhelmed.”

Idina’s reply was prefaced with a coy smile, “They did seem to like it didn’t they?”

“I’ve never experienced anything like that before.”

“Come on, it’s not like this is your first time on stage.”

“I know, I’ve just never really been in anything that people seemed to appreciate before. There is a chance that this show may actually run.”

“Of course it will run.”

“You don’t find that incredible?”

“You didn’t realise that this show was special?”

“What I think is special and what the rest of the world thinks is special don’t often seem to correlate.”

“We are going to be a huge success,” Idina managed to say this without a trace of either irony or arrogance, “so you should get changed cause our adoring millions are waiting for us.”

“I’m not ready to share this moment with them yet.”

A hand hesitantly gestured at the door, “I’m intruding, I’ll leave you alone.”

“No!” The word came out with more power and urgency than she had been planning and had been met with a sceptical look. “You should be here, we built this together.”

“Yes, yes we did,” Idina’s face was illuminated by a cheeky grin.

The smiling was infectious and the corners of her own mouth had lifted to a level that was almost painful, “I can’t believe that we are going to get to do this every night.”

“There is no-one I would rather do this with.” The statement had been effusive but Idina suddenly seemed hesitant, “I mean you are very talented and I think we….well I…..thank you.” She could no longer make eye contact and had begun to inch her way to the door. 

Kristin had acted instantly, a hand darted out to grab Idina’s arm and halt her movement, “You don’t need to thank me, after all this time I can’t imagine doing this with anyone else either.” She turned and embraced Idina in a loose hug and felt a hand cup her head in response, pushing it gently down onto Idina’s chest. She didn’t really think anything of the pose, they had held one another in a similar clinch countless times during the rehearsal process. Fingers sifted through her hair and then caressed the nape of her neck forcing her to let out a contented sigh. The noise had caused Idina to drop her arms to her side.

“I should go and let you get changed.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Someone needs to explain why you are taking so long, you don’t want them think you are a prima donna.”

“Don’t you think I have what it takes to be a diva?”

“You are too small for anyone to take seriously.”

“Hey.”

“I can’t believe you’re offended by that.”

“I’m not but I feel like I should be on principle, if I am going to be a star I should at least be able to act like one.”

“I’m sure there are people who are terrified of you Norma Desmond.”

“You’re not that much younger than me you know.”

“Are you going to take offence to every single thing that I say?”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“On whether you are going to continue to say things that offend me,” she had fired her best ‘well duh’ look at the brunette.

“This is your own fault, I offered to leave.”

“I want you here.”

“But I seem to be saying all the wrong things.”

“So maybe you should stay and just not speak.” Idina folded her arms across her chest and glared at Kristin. It had been impossible to keep the smugness out of her voice, “I kind of like you this way, I promise I won’t take long,” she completed her teasing by standing on her tiptoes, and had felt tug in her calves as she made it to her goal, placing a chaste kiss on Idina’s lips.

“Don’t.”

“I thought I told you not to talk.” She had punished the display of impudence by placing another kiss on Idina’s mouth.

“Kristin don’t.” Idina’s arms had trembled, her fists clenched.

“I’m sorry, I thought we were close, I didn’t think you’d mind, I didn’t mean to upset you or make you mad, you can go if you’d like,” her words had flown rapidly, a barely coherent salad of syllables. 

“I’m not mad, you just can’t do that, not ever okay?”

Tears had burned at her eyes but she didn’t let them fall, wouldn’t let Idina have that satisfaction, “I thought we were friends, I’m sorry if I misinterpreted the situation. I won’t touch you off stage again, if you want I don’t even have to talk to you.”

“I don’t want that, all I am asking is that you don’t kiss me.”

“Fine,” she obviously hadn’t managed to hide her pain because Idina’s face crumbled.

“You’re making this impossible for me.”

“Impossible?”

“Fuck Kristin, I’m not made of stone.” She didn’t get a chance to ask Idina what she meant because her lips were suddenly being devoured, she didn’t question her actions, she had simply returned the kiss with matching force and velocity. She didn’t protest as Idina lifted her from the ground and carried her until she had been wedged between Idina and the wall, her legs wrapped around Idina’s waist and her lips skimming Idina’s collarbone. Hands had tangled in her hair tugging at curls that belonged to Glinda and Glinda’s glitter spread over Idina’s face and neck, a surreal coating of magical particles marking the moment, marking her territory. She often thinks about that night, thinks about what might have happened if someone hadn’t knocked on the door and shattered their shared illusion. As it stands it is the one and only time that Idina Menzel has kissed her and as such it is amongst her most painful and precious of memories. 

They didn’t talk about what they’d done and they managed to manoeuvre their way through the after party as though nothing had changed. People easily dismissed the glow that she felt had become tattooed to her cheeks as the flush of success and if they held hands more often than they otherwise would have no-one seemed to notice. Their silence extended well beyond that night, to this day they have never broached the subject and she would be tempted to believe that it was nothing more than a figment of her imagination but Idina is currently under the skirt of her costume and that makes it hard to ignore the fact that something changed that night. 

She has no explanation as to how things reached this point, part of her life seems to have been completely sheared off from the rest of it and a series of complicated and unspoken rules have been developed regarding appropriate behaviour in each arena. In public they touch frequently, they declare their love openly, Glinda reaches for Elphaba’s hand and knows that it will be met unquestioningly and their hugs become longer and more frequent. Even on stage and ensconced in the cloaks of their respective characters the touching is about them, she may be dressed as Glinda but it is Kristin that reaches out and although it is covered in green paint, it is Idina’s skin that she finds. What happens when they are alone is far more nebulous, they do not kiss, they do not talk about the way they feel or what they are to one another. Nothing physical transpires unless they are alone in her dressing room and she is dressed as Glinda - it is like some distorted version of repetition compulsion, a simplified coda of their original encounter. 

There is nothing but shadows and secrecy. Sometimes she wishes that she knew what this meant, knew if it really was something more than just the intense feelings that one develops for one’s co-star, a transference of Glinda’s feelings for Elphie into Kristin’s feelings for Idina but if that were the case shouldn’t it be Norbert in the room with her now?. Shouldn’t it mean something that in the guise of Glinda she has kissed both Norbert and Taye? She knows it’s not Norbert that she wants, she’s certain that when he kissed her in their final curtain call earlier this evening it was affectionate yet meaningless but that when Idina lifted her from the ground, time slowed and she would have been content if her heart never beat again. Her feelings don’t necessarily translate to Idina’s though, for all she knows Idina feels something for Norbert, may spend quiet time with him in his dressing room or alternatively what Idina does with her may be nothing more than the residual imprints of time spent as Maureen. 

She may talk about having long show-itis and needing to move on because she feels that she is going insane but it’s the latter part of that statement that is the real driving force behind her departure. She can’t do this anymore, can’t live in this kind of limbo of undefined commitment to a person that she is not even certain wants her in return. There is no reason that Idina should want her, not when she has Taye, there is nothing that she could possibly see in a tiny doll-like creature with the kind of features that can look beautiful on stage but don’t stand up to closer scrutiny. She knows that she is only attractive so long as she can maintain the childlike illusion, it’s part of the reason that she has been happy to play a character so much younger than her own years. Youth doesn’t last forever and there isn’t a great market for wrinkled dolls, she fears she will not grow old gracefully, that her stature guarantees that she will become wizened and decrepit and that there is no way that she will ever be able to compete with Taye. Still, it hurts to think about leaving her, she may not be able to see Idina under the hoops and ruffles but she knows that it’s Idina who is touching her, it’s Idina that makes her head feel too light and her heart beat too fast and that Idina is the one who supports her legs as her body trembles and her muscles go limp. 

When she has finished her ministrations and Kristin’s body has been converted to jelly, Idina extracts herself and heads for the door without making eye contact. “Wait,” in response to the command Idina pauses but doesn’t move her gaze from the exit. “Who was I?”

Idina doesn’t need the questioned clarified, “You, only you.” She hastens her departure but stops at the door and turns to face Kristin, “Always you.” Idina’s eyes seem glassy and she looks torn and Kristin knows that she shouldn’t have asked the question because the answer was the one thing that she didn’t want to hear. She doesn’t know how she is going to live with the knowledge that what she ran away from was something special, something that she should have fought for, something real.


End file.
